I recently took my first real trip in a long time. It was the very first time since the pandemic started that I went on a plane. What I wasn’t prepared for, was the way I would feel traveling without Kody. Now in this case, I don’t mean actively traveling with him, although I did realize my last time on a plane was almost certainly with him at my side. In this case, what I mean is traveling without being able to share pictures and stories with him along the way. I thought I’d started mastering life after suicide loss, but this was a new frontier.

Whenever Kody or I went anywhere, we would share immediately with the other if we didn’t have them with us. Even when Kody went on different day trips, he would send me pictures and tell me stories from the day. In return, anywhere I went I’d share pictures with him as well. I think all of it started when I went on a trip to Ireland in college. I shared with him almost constantly all the fun I was having and the cool places I knew he would love.

On my trip to Alaska, I started realizing how weird this was going to be after getting off the plane and taking the first few pictures. My usual would be to send these straight off to Kody, but he isn’t here anymore. I’m sure whoever has his phone number now, wouldn’t want to be bothered by my pictures. I can’t stop that urge that tells me I should send something too him. Looking out the window at the cabin I stayed at I just knew he’d love the view. He’d have been so excited for me.

Its the quiet hours when grief sneaks up that are the most challenging. In the bustle of travel, I dismissed my grief, but in the silent morning moments it enveloped me. Living life after suicide loss is a constant surprise. I never expected that traveling without Kody would be so challenging. While I can say to him while standing on the beach, look at this. Isn’t it so beautiful. He isn’t here to smile at the pictures I send. Or to share the moments of excitement as I discover somewhere knew. That still hurts.